A personal notebook / Est. 2023
I'm Orven. I write code, make tiny games, and take the long way home. This is where I keep the bits worth remembering.
I spent Sunday getting the water to look right, then ruined it by making the boat move like a shopping trolley. Reducing the steering helped. So did leaving the desk for an hour.
There's no score yet. You can drift between reeds and bump into a wooden jetty. For now, that feels like enough of a game.
Still on the workbenchTook a notebook on a walk and brought back one sentence: “The empty kiosk still smells like coffee.” The rest of the page is a map of streets I don't know the names of.
I used to feel that a walk needed to end somewhere useful. Today it ended at home, with wet socks and a good appetite.
Moved my little home server out of the bedroom. It wasn't especially loud, but I'd started listening for it whenever everything else went quiet.
The shelf beside my desk now holds a plant and a box of spare screws. Neither has needed a restart.
Most of what I make never becomes a finished project. It lives in folders with hopeful names, beside screenshots I meant to send to someone.
I wanted a place for those things too. No launch announcement. Just a page, and something to put on it.